


How it Should Have Been

by notADWarrick



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: AU, Bad Puns, Bath, Breakfast in Bed, Death, F/M, Fix It, Fix It Fic, Fluff, Fucking, Godswood, Hate, Injury, Jaime lannister gets fucked, Law, Love, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Pegging, Rescue, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Smutt, Swordplay, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, broom closets, butt play, butt stuff, implied emotional abuse, mairrage?, no beta readers we die like men, sorry my bisexual heart couldn't resist, strap on, swordplay ;), tired of d&d's bullshit, trail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-02-27 01:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notADWarrick/pseuds/notADWarrick
Summary: Guess what bitches and butches I'm spite writing again. I cannot believe GOT built up this LONG ASS ROMANCE and ONLY GAVE ME 10 SECONDS OF SEXY TIME. Anyway I wrote this because I'm angry and horny so here's the sex scene from the show in my words. Also, I have written an expansion where Jaime still leaves, but better explains to Brienne why he does so and kills Cersei bc I'm tired of her ass (but I love her don't talk to me). Also, fight me, at some point I want Jaime to get pegged (included in later chapters, so please read all the way through ;) ). Anyway. Once again everyone, here's my fucking trash. *Finished but still editing on occasion, I'm picky motherfuckers*





	1. The Night of the Feast

“What are you doing?” Brienne asked him. As if it wasn’t obvious. The fire was hot, and only seemed to be getting hotter to Jamie. The color rose in his face. Brienne’s fingers tangled with the laces of her shirt for a moment before it fell open. Then, she drew closer to him, pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’ve never slept with a knight before” Jamie said, as he gazed at the pale, muscled expanse of her chest.

“I’ve never slept with anyone before” Brienne replied, a slight tremor in her voice.

“Then you have to drink, those are the rules.” Jamie almost whispered, keeping his eyes on hers.

“I told you-” Without hesitation Jaime reached for her. Their lips clashed together, a battle of sorts, but one much different than the one they had been fighting before. Jaime cupped the back of her head, running his hands through her hair, pulling her as close as he could. He almost had to stand on his toes. He could feel her reaching an arm around him, pulling him against her. Her strength made his knees weak, and when they finally came up for air, he stumbled away, before falling against her. He ran his hands up her sides, and looked again into her intensely blue eyes.

“Tell me what you want Brienne. I’ve done this many more times than you.” Jaime said. Brienne let out an anxious breath. Jaime could feel her nervousness.

“What makes the other women you’ve been with… feel good?” She said.

“Well,” Jaime said, a smirk crossing his face, “a good many things. But I might have something in mind.” He rested his hands on her hips, ran his thumb along the v of muscle that led into her breeches. He leaned up, kissed her collarbone and said, his voice heavy with desire,

“Lay down.” Brienne walked to the bed, and Jaime climbed on top of her, kissing her lips again. He could not get enough, could get enough of her. He nipped at her bottom lip and drew away. His hand wandered up her side as he studied he breasts. They were small, but beautiful, a perfect handful almost. He rubbed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and relished in the loud gasp it elicited from her.

“Do that again” Brienne said

“That is only the beginning” Jaime replied. He placed another kiss to her collarbone, before taking her breast in his mouth, rolling her nipple along his tongue. Another gasp. He smiled. She ground into the knee he had placed between her legs, and he could feel the heat radiating from her center. His cock strained against his pants, but he refused to pay attention to it. He had a task before him. With his good hand, he began to unlace her breeches. He stood for a second, keeping his eyes on hers as he pulled them off.

“Jaime I-”

  
“Stop.” Jaime interrupted “I want you. And whatever they think of us, of you, does not matter.” He climbed atop her again, pressing his mouth to hers. She flicked her tongue along his teeth, and reached into his breeches, cupping his ass. He hissed as the bulge in his pants rubbed against her stomach. He pulled away slowly, breathing hard.

“Gods you’re beautiful” Jaime said. He ran his hands over her thighs, and began trailing kisses down her body. First her arm, then her sternum, then he nibbled a spot just under her right breast before tracing his thumb around her center. She bucked against him with need. She was already wet, wanting for him. Jaime kissed the top of her hip bone, the top of her thigh, and then at last, settled between her legs, and licked into her.

“Jaime” Brienne moaned. It spurred him on. He intended to make this last. He licked into her again, swirling his tongue around her clit, and she gasped, her fingers running roughly through his hair, pressing her body against him. Again and again he ran his tongue along her. She tasted like salt and battle. When she felt ready he stopped for a second.

“Don’t-” But her sentence turned into another sound of ecstasy. Jaime slid his finger into her, and after a breath, suckled at her clit, moving one finger in and out before adding a second. He was determined. He wanted to see her undone, wild, wanting him and only him. He picked up speed, and the room filled with the echoes of Brienne’s sounds of pleasure. She was as loud in bed as she was in battle. When at last she fell silent, Jaime felt her walls contract around his fingers. Her thighs squeezed around his head, and for a second, he could not breathe, but he did not stop.

 _I could die like this. Between her thighs._ He thought with relish as he fingered her through her orgasm.

At last Jamie withdrew, running his hands again up her thighs.

“Did you like that?” Jaime asked her, a sultry tone lurking in his voice. Her hair splayed across the pillows.

“Yes,” Brienne said, still breathing hard. “But it seems I’ve left you neglected” she said. In one swift move, she rolled on top of him, and trapped his arms above his head. Jamie’s cock strained against his pants and he grunted.

“Let me go,” he smiled playfully up at her.

“No,” she said, grinding her body against him. “You asked me what I wanted. It’s easier to show than to tell.”

  
“Then show me _Ser_ , how you like to play with swords,” Jaime said with a wicked grin, and wriggled underneath her, pressing his cock closer to her center. She took one hand from his wrists, and traced her fingers down his chest teasingly. Then, without warning she released his arms and ripped away his breeches, tossing them into the corner. She sat studying him for a moment, a little unsure. Jaime sat up on his elbows.

“Don’t be afraid. I will tell you if I don’t like something.” Jaime said, earnestly.

“Promise?” Brienne said

“Promise,” Jamie replied. Softly she took him in her hand, and stroked him, watching his face as his eyelids fluttered. She teased her thumb around his head as her eyes traced the scars covering his body. A nick here, a nick there, a cut on his shoulder with a few stitches, a bruise still healing on his bicep. She kept stroking him, and leaned down, kissing them all one by one. He moaned, and thrust into her hand.

“Stop,” Jaime hissed.

“What?” asked Brienne.

“I would not shorten such a night by spending myself before you are ready for me to,” he said.

“Mmm,” Brienne said, leaning down to take his mouth with hers again. She rubbed herself along his cock, wondering what it would feel like when it was inside her. She was not one to wait. She nipped at his chin, and Jaime gripped her thighs, pressing his fingers into the muscled flesh and pulled her towards him. She straightened, and aligned herself with him. Slowly she sank on to him. Her body stretched, and she felt a twinge of pain, but compared to battle, compared to many things, it was nothing. A pain to be enjoyed. Her fingers splayed across his muscled chest, and with his hand, Jaime reached down, rubbing her clit again. He refused to let her feel more pain, not now. She moved against him, and they both let out moans of pleasure.

“Slowly,” Jaime said, his voice hoarse. She rocked against him, letting herself get used to the feeling of being filled, to the feeling of having him. It was blissful in a sense, almost overwhelmingly so. Again she did this, and again, and again, until their pace increased, and the stone room filled with the sound of their bodies, clashing against each other, and the mumbles of pleasure. Jaime could feel himself nearing his climax

“Brienne!” He shouted. He watched as she rode him, pressed him into the bed with the weight of her body. He watched as she enjoyed herself, head thrown back, her face flushed with effort. And then with one last thrust, he came, still using his good hand to pleasure her. When at last they pulled away from each other, they were both breathing hard.

“Not so bad a swordsman as you claim, Brienne of Tarth” Jamie mumbled into her shoulder as he curled around her. He did not have to look at her to know she was smiling. He traced his fingers along her arm, and over her stomach. She had many scars too, and bruises still left from their battle together against death. He kissed softly, the three lines on her shoulder where the bear had once mauled her.

“I will never let them hurt you like that again” Jaime said. Brienne chuckled. “What?” Jaime asked.

“You know, somehow I don’t think it’s much use try and protect me, Jaime.” Brienne said

“That is true. But all the same,” He laid his head on her breast, listening to her heart for a moment. They were alive. Both alive, and together. And for now, he could rest.


	2. The Words of Lady Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got an OVERWHELMING response last night and also I couldn't stop writing this so here's my next chapter. To be continued. I may add more to the chapter itself so please for the love of god subscribe/ bookmark.

Jaime woke in the night with a jerk. The fire had burned into embers. His chest heaved. For a moment he reached for his sword with his handless right arm before he realized he was still in bed, laying next to Brienne. He rose, put a log on the fire, and the fell back on the pillows. He watched her chest rise and lower with soft breathing. He'd never been able to see how muscled her shoulders were before, and the scars she bore seemed to glimmer in the dim firelight. He studied them for awhile, his eyes tracing the place on her neck where the noose left it's burn. Thinking. There was no doubt. He wanted her. He wanted to be hers for as long as he could manage.

But. He knew, somehow, if Cersei won, he never would be. She had lurked in the nightmare he had jumped out of. They were in the sept again, and she had kissed him, but he had not wanted her to, for once. In the dream, he had pulled away, and she had grown larger, larger than life size, and thrown him to the ground, clawing at him until he was bloody and naked, defenseless,watching as she laughed at him.

In bed he drew closer to Brienne, draping his arm around her, tracing a hand lazily along the muscles of her stomach. She rolled towards him.

“What is it?” She mumbled sleepily.

“Nothing,” Jaime replied. Brienne gave him a doubtful look.

“I won't judge you for your night terrors,” she said. Jaime stiffened. Brienne rolled on her side, facing him. She bent her head and kissed him. It was not so intense as before. Something of comfort, not of desire. He ran a thumb along her marred cheek.

“Let me hold you,” she said. Jaime rolled to his side, and she scooted closer to him, wrapping him in her strong arms, curling her body around his. He could think about the dream tomorrow.

 

✶✶✶

 

When Jaime awoke again, he still lay curled in Brienne’s arms. The cold winter sun shown through the window and the fire had died out. He shifted in the cold that had begun to permeate the room. Brienne rubbed a hand along his sternum. It was then that he felt the stiffness that lay between his legs under the sheets. A whispered sound of pleasure escaped his lips.

“It’s freezing in here,” Brienne said, curling closer to him under the blankets. Jaime rolled to face her.

“I know a way to warm up,” he replied, another smirk playing across his face. He ran his hand gently down her stomach, and waited as she parted her legs before teasing her open. He listened as a gasp escaped her lips. He wished he could tease her like this forever. He circled his finger inside her, pressing softly in the places he had discovered with his tongue last night. Her body responded without hesitation, and she ground against his hand as he worked. He could hear her breath getting ragged. Slowly, he stopped, but then toyed with her clit just a little, enough to make her swat at him, before he rolled on top of her an aligned himself with her.

“Ready?” Jaime asked. Brienne did not respond with words but instead, guided him into her. They were slow this time, fucking lazily. Jaime kept a slow rhythm, making sure to push Brienne to the edge with a thrust before slowly backing out.

  
“Fuck-” She mumbled in his ear.

  
“I don’t think I ever heard you curse before,” Jaime whispered in her ear as he nipped at her earlobe. She was biting her bottom lip so hard her teeth could almost leave bruises, and her nails dug into the skin of his back. She was clearly enjoying this and Jaime intended to make it last half the day if he could.

  
“I didn’t finish my sentence” Brienne gasped as he thrust into her again.

“Then finish it,” Jaime said, grin still on as his face as he pulled out and entered her again.

  
“Fuck-” Brienne took in a gulp of air, Jaime ran a hand down and circled her clit, “Fuck me harder.” She took charge with these words, flipping them over without ever losing the connection. Again she rode him, and Jaime watched ecstatically as she pleasured herself with him, this time placing her own fingers where his had been. She was growing more confident. He could feel her reaching her peak, and at last when she began to contract around him, he came into her.

When they fell back onto the bed again, a light sheen of sweat covering their bodies, Jaime laid his head on her chest as he had the night before, again listening to her heart.

“You like being in control,” he said, his voice still raspy with desire.

  
“And you like being underneath me.” Breinne said, running her fingers through his bronze colored hair.

  
“That I do,” Jaime growled. He took her nipple in his mouth and she gasped. But alas it was not to continue. A knock came at the door.

“Who it the bloody fuck is that?” Jaime mumbled angrily, rising from their bed. Quickly he grabbed his robe as the cold air hit him, quashing any hardness he had regained. He pulled the robe over himself, tied it quickly, and opened the door, ready with a quick jibe for the person who had disturbed them.

“You’re going to miss lunch if you stay up here rocking the castle beds any longer.” Tyrion said to Jaime, as he cleaned his nails. Jaime gave him a look of displeasure. At least it was Tyrion.

“I’ll be down in a half hour.” Jaime grumbled. Jaime glanced back at Brienne, hiding herself under the covers. A grin slowly spread across her face. “....Maybe an hour,”  he finished as he turned back to Tyrion and tried to close the door. Tyrion stopped him.

“Lady Sansa wishes to speak with you,” Tyrion said in explanation.

“Fine.” Jaime said. He glanced again at Brienne. “Fifteen minutes”.

“Ten?” Tyrion said.

“Fifteen,” Jaime growled.

“Ten and I’ll have ale already poured for you both to clear up whatever hangover you have.” Tyrion replied, Jaime shut the door and returned to Brienne.

“Where were we?” he asked her as he sat back down on the bed. Brienne straddled him.

"Getting ready to go down to the feast," she kissed him thoroughly before getting up.

"Tease," Jaime jibed, as she reached for her leather raiments.

"I'm only returning the favor,  _Ser_ ," Brienne said, an unusual hint of sarcasm coloring her voice. 

 

✶✶✶

 

They sat on either side of Sansa at the midday meal, and it seemed all the hall was full of talk but them. Sansa sipped from her cup quietly, her usual brooding expression surveying the room. Jon and Dany were yet absent, but Bran sat staring at his food a few seats down. He looked as if he was not going to eat any of the pheasant before him.

  
Jamie had already dived in, unwilling to hide his starvation from the previous evenings activities. Brienne, on the other hand, made a decent job of pretending to eat delicately. When Jamie had finally swallowed most of his third heavy mouthful of food, he felt Sansa’s arm brush against him. He knew this to be her way of telling him she wished to express something.

  
“What is it Lady Sansa” Jaime said, in an undertone. He had a feeling her words were meant only for him. She grabbed his amputated forearm under the table, and dug her sharp nails into the soft skin.

  
“I saw you sneak away last night,” Sansa hissed. There was a pause. Jaime’s heart thumped loudly. “She has protected me from long before I knew her, and saved me from the worst of my enemies. Now it’s my duty as the Lady of Winterfell to protect her. Don’t break her heart, and you will stay as whole as you are now. Break it and remember how I killed Ramsey. Remember that I would not hesitate to do the same to you.”

Jaime’s stomach turned. The food he had been gorging himself on suddenly did not seem so inviting.

  
“Of course Lady Sansa.” He muttered in reply, as he grew slightly paler. He glanced at Brienne. The corner of her mouth was tipped upward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! working on a third chapter. I honestly feel sick to my stomach after 8x5, and this fic really helped me cope last week so I'm going to keep writing. for my own validation and everyone else's. But, please, give me time. I'm really disapointed in the show right now, and especially in the writers.


	3. A Promise of Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guess what dudes and dykes, I don't have the energy to yell right now because I'm so angry at the show and this fic has turned into my coping mechanism so here's the next chapter? Also if the writers of the show ever read this,,,,, FUCK you for throwing away Jaime's character like that, and FUCK you for turning the love of my life, Brienne of Tarth, into some tool to send him back to Cersei. Also like, fuck everything but anyways. Here goes.

Tyrion and Jaime stood on the veranda overlooking the courtyard of Winterfell’s castle. Below, Brienne trained with Podrick.

“Podrick is a much better squire than I remembered him being,” Tyrion said to Jaime.

“Well I gave him to the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms, I would hope he’s improved,” Jaime replied.

“Speaking of your swords-woman,” Tyrion said, taking a sip of his ale, “You never answered my question before, about Brienne. We were too busy being threatened by Bronn. What's she like, down there?” Jaime turned a light shade of pink, and shifted uncomfortably. Tyrion looked at him expectantly.

“She…” Jaime stuttered. Tyrion’s eyebrows raised. A clang of swords rang out in the courtyard. Jaime swallowed, now a dark red. “She’s… blonde.” Tyrion rolled his eyes.

“Well I could have guessed that,” he replied.

“She likes to be on top,” Jaime muttered to Tyrion. The corners of Tyrion’s mouth twitched in amusement.

“I see the food at the celebratory feast was not the only thing you ate the other night then.” Tyrion said, elbowing Jaime playfully.

“Aye,” Jaime replied and chuckled, “It was not. And the feast in the bedroom was much more enjoyable.” Tyrion bellowed a loud laugh. It was loud enough to catch the attention of the fighters below, and Brienne frowned up at them. They both looked away, avoiding eye contact. The sparring continued.

Jaime bent his head slightly and spoke in a low voice.

“Have you ever been with a woman who-”

“Yes. And I’ve been with women who demanded more than Brienne demanded of you last night I’d wager. It was quite fun.” Tyrion replied before Jaime could finish his sentence.

“Well,” said Jaime, “Cersei was always demanding. Just in a different way. She was much more... hurtful. And she was mean in ways that Brienne is, well, kinder.” Tyrion nodded in agreement. For a moment they were silent.

“Do you ever miss her? Cersei?” Tyrion asked. Jaime paused, gazing down at Brienne awhile before answering.

“Yes, and no,” Jaime said, “I miss who I thought she was sometimes. I never miss the person that she is now.” Brienne landed a nasty blow on Podrick, and he stumbled away. They stopped their sparring for a moment and Brienne laid a hand on Podrick’s shoulder, clearly meaning for him to take a break.

“I may have a gift for you and Brienne. I’ll leave the plans with the leathersmith before we ride for kings landing tomorrow,” Tyrion said, with a smirk. Jaime’s cheeks flushed.

“And what kind of gift would that be?” he asked Tyrion.

“You’ll see,” Tyrion replied “It’s an invention of the Dornish. But I suggest you let her learn how to use her fingers on you first. ”

 

✶✶✶

 

A week had passed. Jaime sat by the fire in a just a light leather shirt and his breeches. He gazed into it, hoping that the now gone red woman would send some vision of what he should do. A raven had come from kings landing, and Sansa’s words rung in his ears.

The nightmares were getting worse. Each night Cersei haunted him, beat him. Each night he awoke, sweating, scared, reaching for Brienne. He hated feeling this. Hated feeling so afraid. He knew what he had to do. He turned to Brienne, who sat on their bed unbuckling her armor. Her boots already lay on the floor next to her.

“I have to go,” he said. His chest was tight. His eyes watered, although he tried not to let them. “I can’t escape her. I have to be the one to kill her. No one else can. Not even Daenerys and her dragons.”

“I know,” said Brienne. Her hands stilled. “But stay tonight. And when you return-”

“If I-” Jaime interrupted

“When you return,” Brienne spoke over him firmly, and took his hand, “we will build our life together.” Jaime collapsed into her, feeling more lost, afraid, and helpless than he had been since he was surrounded by the army of the dead. For awhile she just held him, until the he could feel more than his fear again.

“I love you,” he mumbled into her shoulder, realizing that she had only taken off one half of her armor.

“And I love you,” she replied, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Now let me undress.” Jaime gave a soft chuckle. He sat up and wiped his face. He took a deep breath.

“Impatient much?” Jaime said, arching an eyebrow.

“Well my time is limited, it seems. And If you’re to leave tomorrow, I intend make sure that your nightmares don’t trouble you.”

“Do as you will, Ser” Jaime said with a wink, but as he reached to help her, he hesitated, and his usual demeanor fell. “Please. Be careful tonight. I may not… I am not myself.”

“I am here for you, however you need me,” Brienne replied, holding his face in her hands. Slowly, the corners of his mouth tipped up. She kissed him softly, letting him choose how to respond. When at last, she pried his lips apart, and as he delved his tongue into her mouth, she pulled him on top of her lap, and reached under his shirt, gently running her fingers over the thick muscles of his stomach. He ground against the front of the hard plate of armor still on her chest. She paused, and undid it herself, slowly lifting it over her head placing it with a clink on to the floor next to the bed.

"You would treat my gift so rashly?" Jaime teased her

"Only to better love the man who gave it to me," Brienne said. Jaime bit his bottom lip in anticipation "Lay down," Brienne said in a soft voice. Jaime did so. "I want to send you with something to remember me by," she continued, as she removed her leather jerkin and stood before him only in her riders pants.

"And what is that?" Jaime asked her. She began unlacing his breeches, very slowly. She leaned down, locking his lips with hers, drawing a sound of pleasure from him, at last, as she cupped his length in her strong hands.

"Tell me if I do something you don't want," Brienne said softly, as she let her other hand caress his face. Jaime nodded. She tugged off his breeches, and did as she had watched him do but a week before. She trailed kisses down his body, savoring the taste of sweat, and the twitches of his body at her mercy. While no match in appearance to her own, Jaime's body was enjoyable in an altogether different way. Whorls of blonde hair led down his stomach, he was thin, almost too much so in this depth of winter, but still he was muscled, powerful. She lifted the stump of his right arm, and kissed the scar that lay there. He laughed, and stroked her hair with his existing left hand. She smiled. At first Brienne just stroked his length with her hands, and watched, testing to see what he liked. She could always tell. His face, for her, was one of the very few that was easy to read. At last she bent, and took him into her mouth. Jaime moaned, loudly. She swirled her tongue around his head, testing, and he had to restrain himself from thrusting too far into her. Again she tested, bobbing up and down, using her hands, watching, listening to him, until she knew what to do. He encouraged her, not just with soft words, but with exclamations of pleasure. When at last he was so close to the edge that he could stand it no longer, he whispered her name, and lifted her chin. She smiled, and their lips met once again.

"You taste like the sea," she whispered in his ear. With a few more deft strokes of Brienne's hand Jaime came, spilling himself between them.

They lay next to each other in silence for a moment, before Jaime nestled himself into her arms.

"How will you remember me?" He asked her after awhile, as the fire began to get low.

"I take you with me everywhere Jaime. Every person who has tried to hurt me since you gave me that armor has stopped short at your fierce protection. I will always remember you."

 

✶✶✶

 

Brienne awoke to a cold space in bed beside her. For a moment panic washed over her, but then the door began to creak open. Jaime slipped in. He was barefoot, and wore only pants and a light cotton shirt, but in his hands, he held a plate of food.

"For my lady," he said with a bow, "in exchange for services rendered. A Lannister always pays his debts, after all." Brienne grinned. They both sat cross legged on top of the furs of their bed, and Jaime set the food between them. There was a few strips of dried venison, a loaf of soft white bread, and best of all, a small bundle of bright red winter berries. "I did not manage to sneak away with much," he said with a grin, "I hope this is satisfactory." Brienne kissed him softly, and reached for a berry. She popped it in her mouth, and savored the juice as it burst.

"It is perfect," she said. Together they ate, and spoke of the best route to travel.

"I'll send a raven ahead" Brienne told him. "They will let you through the ranks. Sneak into the Red Keep alone," she said.

"You know my mind almost too well," Jaime replied.

When they finished, they dressed, and walked down to the stables together. It was still early in the day, and the while cold lingered, the sun shone piercingly bright. The two of them lingered as they made their way to the gates. When at last they reached the bounds of the castle, they stood for a moment, gazing out at the horizon.

"When I come back-" Jaime paused, holding back the lump in his throat, "I'll be yours and yours alone," he finished. She took his face in her hands.

"Swear it." Brienne said. Jaime placed his left hand on the pommel of Oathkeeper, strapped to her waist.

"With every ounce of honor I have left," he said, and at last he mounted his horse, and rode into the distance.


	4. Worries of the future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alright heathens I'm pretty hellbent on finishing this, and I'm frankly really enjoying writing it, so here's a fourth chapter. You can look forward to  
> \- pining  
> -some pretty good one liners  
> \- me, failing to paint for you what the Red Keep looks like bc I honestly have no idea how to describe such a vast scene setting. Please fill in your visions from the show I am TRYING  
> \- Brienne alone in the bath ;)
> 
> *for context* in my AU please assume that John and Dany are co-ruling the six kingdoms of Westeros, That Dany accepted the surrender, and that the North Remains free under the reign of Queen Sansa.

The gates of the Red Keep slammed shut behind Jaime Lannister. The streets around him smelled sour with fear and sweat. He walked with purpose. A cloak hid his face, which frowned in concentration as he navigated closer and closer to the heart of the city. Jaime could see Drogon in the distance, burning the crossbows from the wall, as he climbed higher. He smiled. The siege was going well. If he could make it in time maybe… the city could be saved. He quickened his pace. Slowly, as he grew closer to the great towers, the crowd thinned, and when at last he reached the great stone doors that led into them, he paused only for a second. The guards looked at him with suspicion. He removed his hood.

“I have come to see my sister,” Jaime said. Suddenly he heard a deep, familiar, voice resonate behind him.

“And I my brother.” At the Hound’s voice, the two guards drew their swords. Jaime and the Hound responded in kind.

“It seems we’ve come for a similar errand,” The Hound said out of the corner of his mouth to Jaime as the soldiers advanced.

“It seems so,” Jaime replied. The clash did not last long. Within a minute the three guards were dead. Jaime breathed hard. The hound threw open one of the massive wooden doors to the towers of the keep, pushing aside one of the bodies.

“Out of breath old man?” he smirked at Jaime.

“No,” Jaime replied indignantly, and walked through the open door. For a while they walked the halls in silence, with only the sound of their boots hitting the floor to echo off the empty halls.

“So what’s the plan?” The Hound asked

“Don’t have one,” muttered Jaime.

“Did you think my brother would just let you pass?” The Hound asked him

“Well,” Jaime said, going a little red, “Maybe.”

“New plan,” growled The Hound. “I’ll distract The Mountain. When I give the signal, run past. Take your vengeance.”

“Works for me.” Jaime said. It grew quiet again. They were close.

“They are at the top of the next staircase,” Jaime whispered. The two of them stopped

“At my whistle,” said Sandor. The Hound crept up the stairs as quietly as he could in his armor. When he rounded the corner of the spiral staircase The Hound saw him. The Mountain.

“Brother.” Sandor said. The Mountain drew his broadsword. The Hound drew his as well. They did not circle. This was no tournament for weak knights in gilded armor. The Mountain swung first, aiming for the Hound’s head. The Hound parried it, and the clash echoed down the hall. The Hound stepped away from the force of his brothers blade, and swung at the chink in his armor at his exposed right side, but only landed a light hit before the Mountain moved to the side. Sandor swung first this time, a wide sweeping stroke, that his brother only barely caught before it collided with the ribbon tied around his neck. The Hound gave a loud whistle. With all his strength, the Hound pressed the mountain against the wall of the stair. Jaime ran past, opened the door, and entered the top room of the tower, to meet his sister.

She did not look at him.

“I knew you would come back,” Cersei said, her voice cool.

“And so I have.” Jaime replied. He went to her, and offered a hand. She took it. “Is this rumor of our new child really true?” He asked her.

“No. Only a ploy to feed the gossip of the lesser lords and commoners. Did you really believe it?” she asked him.

“I… no.” Jaime replied. He glanced at the ground.

“Good.” replied Cersei, seemingly bored. She turned away from him, again gazing out the window and down upon the city whose gates were burning. “Now please Jaime, save me, as you always do.” Jaime stepped closer to her, and rested his head on her shoulder from behind. A tear drew a line in the dust covering his face.

“Not today,” he said softly, and put his sword through her heart. Cersei fell, and he caught her.

“It seems you are Queenslayer as well as Kingslayer now,” Cersei said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She raised the knife she had hidden under her dress, and in one last act of defiance, took it to Jaime’s chest. He lay on the ground, she in his arms. The darkness was starting to creep in on his eyesight. His last memory was of a swish of a sword from behind the door, the thump of a head hitting the ground, and the Hound’s face, hovering above his. The bells were ringing in the city below.

“Jaime!” He heard the Hound say, before blackness engulfed him.

 

✶✶✶

 

Jaime woke to an ache in his shoulder so vicious, his first urge was to let out a string of curse words. He cracked his eyelids determinately and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a bedchamber, where he knew not, but the sun was setting, his sheets were soft, and Brienne sat in a chair between him and the window. Her hair was almost platinum gold in the light, and she let out a soft noise in her sleep. Her armor was still on, and her travel gear was piled beside her. There was dirt smeared across her face, and of all the things, she had forgotten to remove her riding gloves.  
She must have ridden from Winterfell like demons were behind her, Jaime thought. He smiled, and fell back into a peaceful sleep.

✶✶✶

When he woke again, it was mid morning, and while his shoulder still ached, the edge of the pain seemed to have slipped away. He sat up in bed and the wound in his shoulder twinged. At the rustle of his bedsheets, Brienne woke up.

“Jaime?” She said blearily

“Yes,” he replied

“Jaime!” She almost shouted, and leaped up. He smiled. “Are you feeling alright?” Brienne asked, leaning over him, and placing a hand on his bandage ridden breast.

“Mostly,” Jaime said, shifting into a more comfortable position.

“I can’t believe I didn’t come with you,” Brienne said, sitting back down and shifting the chair towards Jaime. “I should have been there to protect you, I’m... I'm sorry.” She placed her hand on his arm, her voice breaking on the last word.

“Don’t blame yourself. It was my own short-sights that caused this little scratch,” he said, gesturing to his right shoulder with his left hand. “And after all, I didn’t really need that arm very much anyways.” Brienne laughed through her tears. “Now I demand that you take care of yourself for it seems you have not left my bedside, and I will not be able to fall back to sleep and heal with the temptation of the woman I love sitting next to me.” Jaime finished softly. Brienne brushed the hair from his face, and kissed him. He traced his left hand across her jawline with care. She broke away after a moment.

“As you wish,” Brienne said, and left the room. Jaime lay back down and adjusted his pillow. Even in his weakened state his cock ached for her, and truly there was nothing he could do about it, and so he fell into a half sleep, dreaming of what he might do with her in the weeks to come, once he began to heal.

✶✶✶

Brienne sat in a bath of hot water, cut out of a cavern of rock in the castle, scrubbing the filth of the ride from Winterfell off of her body. She had ridden two weeks straight almost, sleeping in the saddle more often than not, to reach King’s Landing. When she had arrived, The Maester tending to Jaime had said that he was grievously wounded, but likely to survive, for the knife had not pierced his heart. A nasty scar and some loss of feeling but nothing more in the long term, if all went well with the healing.

 _Jaime_ she thought. He was awake, healing. Finally. She had been by his bedside almost three days and had begun to worry. When at last she felt clean, Brienne paused, lowering enough into the water that it touched her chin. She sat like that for a moment, watching the flickering of the dim lights, and listening to the water drip. Her mind began to circle, to worry.

 _What will Jon and Daenerys do with him, now that he is awake_? Brienne thought. _Surely not make him face trial. He all but won the war for them. They could not execute the Queenslayer, just as Robert could not execute his King-slayer. But would they reward him. With what? Another title? He already had land. A wife?_ Her brow furrowed at this thought.

 _Will they make him the head again of the Kingsguard?_ _Unable to marry or have children at all?_ This was somehow a worse thought. But Brienne closed her eyes, dunked her head under the water, and then let out the air in her lungs before coming back up. She forced her body and then her mind to relax, and then said aloud, into the darkness

“What shall pass, shall pass. The battle is over, and we are both living. That is all I could ask for.” She smiled, thinking of their breakfast in bed only a short month or two ago. She thought of the smile he had worn then, and the promise he had made before he rode away. She knew he would not break that promise.

Her thoughts drifted to their first night together. Even then she knew he was hers. She thought of his face as he had nestled his head between her thighs, that first time, and she began to ache for him once again. She closed her eyes, sinking a little into the water. She thought of him under her again, in the warmer spring air, and her hands began to drift towards her center. She stroked her fingers against her opening gently at first. She may have been a virgin when she met Jaime, but she was no virgin to the needs of her body. She thought of him now, imagining them in the woods along the Kingsroad. Pictured him kneeling before her,licking into her, her bare back against a tree, while the river burbled in the background. Her finger circled her clit. She pressed for a moment before letting the pressure go, not really in to mood move too quickly. Jaime had wanted her to take care of herself after all, and truly, she had done nothing but worry over him for weeks. She returned to her fantasy, forming in her mind the look of utter devotion on his face. She parted herself slightly, picking up the rhythm of her fingers, enjoying the thought. In her daydream she threw him onto the soft grass of the riverbank, and pinned his arms above his head. But alas, the sensation of her body distracted her from the daydream. She came almost without sound, except for a soft almost delicate outlet of breath before with withdrawing her hands. For awhile she floated on her back in the water. Then, at last, she rose from the bath, clothed herself in fresh raiment, and returned to Jaime’s chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes Jaime is still getting pegged, subscribeeeeeeee if you wanna read the next chapter bitchesss!!! Here's a quick sneak peak for you nasty fuckers, <3 I love you
> 
> “I want to feel what you felt,” he said. Brienne frowned at him for a second, and took the vial from his hands, studying it, looking confused. Then, realization dawned on her face. 
> 
> “Oh!” she said, and laughed. She could not see Jaime’s face in the light but she knew his face was red. “You’re sure you trust me with this task?” Brienne asked him, one slim blonde eyebrow raised. 
> 
> “You trusted me didn’t you?” Jaime replied. There was a pause, and the dust motes seemed to dance around them.


	5. The Trial of Jaime Lannister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I should really just name this chapter butt stuff and emotional trauma. Don't forget to leave kudos and subscribe! Here you go. have fun!

It had been a little over ten days since Jaime Lannister had first awoken, and with nothing to do but wait for his body to heal, and for the king and queen to hold his trial, he had lugged himself out of bed to walk in the gardens and find Brienne, who had left his bedside in early morning to train again. Why she was still training so dedicatedly he did not know, for the kingdom was slowly taking the first steps towards peace. Since Brienne refused to leave his side, Jon had reluctantly appointed her Jaime’s personal guard. Not that he needed much guarding.

  
It seemed spring was beginning to creep into King’s landing, for as he strolled, Jaime noticed a few new buds, and a single little blue cornflower. He picked it, thinking of Brienne’s eyes, almost annoyed at his own over romanticism. When he reached the training yard she was there. She wore no armor today, just a light set of leather padding, for it was fairly warm, and a comforting breeze seemed to be blowing through the castle. No one trained with her now, she was only practicing her movements, moving Oathkeeper from one position to another slowly. Even in this Jaime could see her skill and finesse. Her balance was unmatched, her brow knit in concentration. A sigh escaped his lips, and Brienne saw him.

  
“Care to help me train?” Brienne said, raising an eyebrow and smirking as she walked towards him, lowering her sword.  
“Not yet,” Jaime laughed with his reply. “Even whole and two handed I could not best you.” Brienne’s face broke into a smile. She took his hand, and noticed the flower.

  
“What’s this?” She asked Jaime. He blushed in earnest.

 

“It just… made me think of you,” he said, glancing at the ground.

  
“Getting all romantic on your lady are you Ser?” Brienne laughed and lifted his chin.

  
“Maybe,” Jaime said, grinning, and leaned towards her. Their lips met softly at first, but quickly turned more heated. They had been waiting, until Jaime had begun to heal to resume certain affections, and it had become a challenge. This time it seemed, they could not resist the temptation. Brienne backed Jaime into the stone wall of the courtyard, and took his mouth with hers, tangling their tongues without abandon. The flower fell to the ground unnoticed. It was good that it was still fairly early in the day, and there was no one about yet to see them, for without thinking much about what he was doing, Jaime snaked his left hand into the seam of Brienne’s breeches. She was at his mercy in seconds as he traced a finger along her center, nipping at her neck.

  
“Jaime” Brienne gasped, and pulled away from him. He crooked an eyebrow at her as if to ask why she wanted him to stop. She tugged at his wrist and leaned into whisper in his ear.

  
“Find somewhere. Quickly.” Jaime obeyed without a second’s thought. She followed him as he almost jogged under the columns of the keep’s courtyard, searching with his eyes for where he knew there used to be an empty broom closet. Finally he found the door and threw it open. Then, stepped aside.

  
“After you,” he said to Brienne and winked. She entered, and pulled him in after her. Jaime shut the door with a slam. Thankfully, a small rectangular window at the top of the tiny room let in just enough light to see. Not that either of its occupants were concentrating on anything but one another. Again their lips met, this time with unfettered lust. Oathbreaker clattered to the floor as Jaime unbuckled Brienne’s sword belt. He ran his hand up her body, under her shirt, and took her breast into it, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Brienne pulled away and gasped. Jaime growled deep in his throat in response. He reached for her breeches.

  
“Let me take them off,” Breinne said softly. Jaime watched as she did so, admiring every inch of her long, muscular legs as they were revealed to him. She kicked off her boots as well and he laughed. Jaime drew closer to her, and went to lay his right hand on her hip before he realized it was missing. He hesitated for a second, but she took the stump of his wrist and placed it where he had meant to put it in the first place, tracing the seam of his scar as she did so. Jaime sighed with reassurance, and knelt before her, still completely clothed.

  
Slowly he traced her thighs with his hand, placing a kiss first on the left and then on the right before moving his fingers between her legs. He watched as she spread them, inch by inch, until they were far enough apart for him to dip his head and lick between them. He could feel her hand fist slightly in his hair at the sensation of his tongue, moving into her, circling her clit.

  
“Jaime,” he heard her hiss again, trying to stay quiet as she ground against the finger he was using to explore her. He licked again and again, finding her rhythm until she was panting, shaking above him. When Brienne finally pulled him up roughly, and kissed him, her knees still shook slightly with her orgasm. She tasted herself on his tongue and as soon as she pulled away and regained her breath, she again trapped him against the wall carefully with her forearm. Still panting a little they both studied each other for a second.

  
“I want to try something.” Jaime said to her. Brienne’s brows knit together. “I might have come down here to seduce you,” he said and winked at her. Brienne rolled her eyes. He pulled a small vial of oil out of his pocket, and leaned in nibbled at her earlobe before saying, his voice husky.

 

“I want to feel what I make you feel,” he said. Brienne frowned at him for a second, and took the vial from his hands, studying it, looking confused. Then, realization dawned on her face.

  
“Oh!” she said, and laughed. She could not see Jaime’s face in the light but she knew his face was red. “And you’re sure you trust me with this task?” Brienne asked him, one slim blonde eyebrow raised.

  
“You trusted me with your maidenhead didn’t you?” Jaime replied. There was a pause, and the dust motes seemed to dance around them.

  
“Okay,” Brienne replied “but I don’t know how good I’ll be at this. I saw someone else do it once, on accident, when I walked in on Renly and Loras, and I didn’t exactly stick around to chat.”

  
“You’ll be wonderful,” Jaime growled in her ear.

  
“Well I’m not fingering you in the broom closet,” she said, reaching for her breeches and sword belt. “I insist we find a real bed, and better light, because,” she said “I want to see every expression on your face as I do it.” Jaime almost melted before her, right then and there, ready to be taken. But Brienne dressed, opened the door, and they both emerged, looking slightly more rumpled than before. They walked slowly up the stairs to their chambers, and again it was good there was no one to see them for halfway up the stairwell, Brienne snuck her hand behind Jaime, and cupped his ass cheek through his pants. Jaime gave her a look of delight, before pecking her on the cheek.

  
When at last they reached their chambers, Breinne shut the door with fervor, set the bottle of oil on the table, light sparking in her eyes. Jaime almost leaped into her arms, pressing her against the door. She ground her hips against his and pushed him away. She removed her shirt, making quick work of it, and approached him. Jaime lay on the bed, clothing already abandoned in a corner, spread out before her. A smirk played across his chiseled jaw.

  
“Come and fuck me _wench_ ,” Jaime said.

  
“Call me that again and you’ll get more than you bargained for _Kingslayer_ ,” Brienne replied, climbing on top of him, and straddling him. She traced the curve of his hip with her left hand and trapped his arms above his head with her right. Softly, she loosened her grip on his forearms. She stopped for a second and spoke to him earnestly. Jaime was breathing hard, and Brienne could feel his cock twitching against her breeches.

  
“Before I do anything, Jaime can you promise me something?” Brienne asked him.

  
“Without a doubt, my lady” Jaime looked at her adoringly.

  
“Tell me. If I do something you don’t like. I’ll stop, we can stop, whenever you like.” Brienne said, quietly, a pleading in her voice for his reassurance.

  
“I would let you do anything you wished to me, even if it meant my death, but I can promise you that if I ever come across the inclination to tell you to stop I will, for it seems very unlikely,” Jaime said, meeting her concerned gaze in earnest. Brienne smiled, and their lips met again. All of the passion, and the heat was still there, but all the same it felt tempered, a work of art beginning to take shape between them.

  
Brienne rose from the bed and retrieved the bottle of oil. She climbed between Jaime’s slim, muscled legs. She decided then that she refused to rush even a second. He had not rushed her maidenhead, and she surely would should begrudge him the same honor, although the situation was quite different. Before even uncapping the vial, she traced the lines of his stomach with her tongue, teasing him, eliciting short breaths of curses from his kiss swollen lips. When she could see a dribble of pre-come running down his shaft, she sat back up. Carefullly, she lifted his legs, placing them around her hips. She ran a hand over his straining cock before spreading oil on one of her fingers. Brienne carefully slid a slick finger over his hole. She remembered how gentle he had been that first time. Her arousal was almost unbearable, watching him like this at her mercy. She moved her finger around the tight band of muscle between his legs, feeling how different it was from her own cunt, before pressing further. Jaime gasped, fisting his left hand in the sheets. Brienne was slow, relishing the softness she felt inside of him. She drew out her finger slowly, torturously, and a string of curses left Jaime’s mouth. He arched into her.

  
“Do it again,” His voice rumbled in affirmation at her. This time Brienne moved quicker, thrusting her finger further inside of him. He ground against her hand, needy for more. Brienne poured more oil onto her fingers as she withdrew again. This time she used two. They slid into him easily and Jaime’s moan could probably be heard by half the castle if they cared to listen. She began to create a rhythm, starting to move faster a little at a time. She watched the morning sunlight play in his hair, studied the way Jaime bit his lip. She rocked her hips against her hand as it moved between them, trying to find friction.

 

 _How could a man so beautiful ever fall for me_. Brienne thought as she watched him. For a second, she paused.

  
“Don’t… Don’t stop.” Jaime murmured. Brienne smiled. Her fingers curled inside him, meaning to pull him closer, but then she brushed something inside of him, and he thrust almost violently against her.

  
“ _Gods_ Brienne,” Jaime licked his lips, dry from gasping. Brienne chuckled. She tried it again, rubbing the place she had found this time. Jaime could barely keep himself contained. Quickly she found her rhythm again, this time making sure to pay special attention, and when at last she brought her other hand to his cock, it took only two strokes before Jaime spilled his seed onto her bare stomach. She withdrew from him for a second, letting him recover, and then wrapped him in her arms. A sheen of sweat covered Jaime’s body.

  
“Is that really what it feels like?” Jaime asked her after awhile.

  
“Probably something like it,” Brienne answered him.

  
“No wonder you like fucking around with me so much,” Jaime said. He grinned at her. “Also, how are you still wearing your breeches? Brienne blushed.

  
“Forgot to take them off I guess,” she said, smiling. For awhile they both lay there, relishing the cool spring air, and the feeling of being in each other’s arms. Brienne playing with Jaime’s hair. Finally she mumbled the question that had been plaguing her.  
“What do you think they’ll do with you?” She asked Jaime in a whisper

  
“I don’t know,” Jaime said, “but I know I did the right thing, and I know that no matter what they sentence me to, or where they send me, I will stay with you.”

 

✶✶✶

 

The next day Jaime’s body refused to let him sleep past sunrise. He woke, left Brienne’s side, dressed, and went to the entrance to the throne room to pace. The trial was to be held that morning, and he not only refused to be late but was impatient to discover his fate. He had taken to leaving behind his golden hand in his room. It was Cersei’s version of him, one he refused to live into any longer. When Brienne joined him, she wore the armor he had given her. This was a comfort. She offered him a cup of ale and a piece of buttered toast she had obviously grabbed from the kitchens on her way down.

  
“Eat.” She told him. Jaime huffed in frustration. He did not know if he could keep down more than a few bites. Still, he made an attempt, if only to appease Brienne. With a few long draughts from the cup of ale he managed to finish it. As he set the cup down, he saw Jon and Dany approaching together.

  
“Ser Jaime, Ser Brienne” Jon said, nodding his head at them each in turn as he passed into the council chamber. Daenerys only gave them each a swift glance, and a purse of her lips in Jaime’s direction. Jaime began to pace again, nervously. Brienne took his hand in hers.

  
“They are just, and we have to trust them,” Breinne said in a calm quiet voice. Jaime breathed out. Slowly, the other small council members began to trickle in. Edmure Tully did not look at either of them as he walked by, but Samwell Tarly gave them a small smile. Bran went by in his wheelchair, pushed by Ser Davos. His usual bored look stayed fixed on his face. Jaime fidgeted, as they waited, the moments seeming to drip by like thick molasses.

  
“Please, anything to distract me,” he whispered to Brienne, tapping his thumb anxiously against hers as she gripped his left hand. She leaned down slightly to whisper a reply in his ear.

  
“I have no idea what I would wear to our wedding if we ever got married,” she said nervously. Jaime chuckled, and attempted to picture her in a dress. Any dress really. The pink one she had worn at Harrenhal was awful and garrish, and really he could see her in nothing but raiments of battle.

  
“Well my preference would be nothing at all, but I don’t think anyone else would much approve,” Jaime said. Brienne smiled and blushed. Jaime still tussled with the concept. After awhile he said “Something blue. To match your eyes.” Brienne gave him a soft kiss, but Jaime was unwilling to let go and pulled her closer. He needed comfort, he needed to solid mass of her body against him. He was about to brush his lips along her jawline teasingly when they both heard a loud cough.

  
“It seems I’m interrupting something again,” said Tyrion, arching an eyebrow. Quickly the two of them stepped away from each other, but still their fingers brushed together, unwilling to part. “I came to escort you in.”

  
“Of course,” Jaime said, his face still red “lead the way.” Tyrion gave Brienne a wink and threw open the large wooden door. Jaime entered and hesitated. He had almost forgotten the way the throne room felt. The columns seemed to glower at him, and the hole that Dany had built behind the throne for Drogon did nothing to allow more light in, for Drogon lay half in and half out of it, an eye lid cracked, watching Jaime with annoyance. A puff of smoke curled from his nostrils. Daenerys herself sat on the Iron throne, and Jon stood next to her, Ghost flopped down by him on the steps. Tyrion stepped quickly ahead of him, and Jaime felt Brienne’s hand at his back as he remembered to walk forward. The soft leather of his boots made no sound on the floor but he could hear the metallic rustles of Brienne’s armor behind him as he stepped forward. When finally he reached the steps before the great throne, the row of council members sat.

  
“I assume,” said Daenerys calmly, “that you wish to forgo any trial by combat,”

  
“I do,” said Jaime, loudly, hoping he sounded more confident than he was.

  
“Then let us begin.” Daenerys said “Here we hold the trial of Jaime Lannister, for the murder of his sister, Queen Cersei Lannister, and her unborn child”. The courtroom was silent. “Please, state your case.”

  
“I plead guilty, to the crime of murdering my sister, Cersei Lannister,” said Jaime, kneeling, his head bowed, but then he rose, to meet Dany’s eye “But I would like to present two points. The first being that she was not with child. This was a rumor she perpetuated to garner sympathy. She informed me it was false before her death. The second point I would like to make is that if I had not slain her, the war may not have been won.”

  
“A strong argument,” Jon replied. “Would you present anyone as witness to vouch for your honor?”

  
“There was no witness to the crime I plead guilty to, but I present two witnesses to speak to my honor, and one witness to confirm that Cersei was not with child. Ser Brienne of Tarth, and my brother, Tyrion Lannister, your hand, would vouch for my honor, and Maester Samwell Tarly has evidence gathered from the body of my sister,” Jaime replied. Jon nodded.

  
“Ser Brienne, do you wish to speak on Ser Jaime’s behalf?” Daenerys asked Brienne.

  
“I do.” Brienne replied. She took a deep breath, and glanced at Jaime. “I encouraged Jaime to return to Kings landing and slay his sister. I knew that by doing so, we could win the war, and that in her death, Jaime might be free of the chains that bound him to her. He has saved my life many times, and as you know, fought the dead alongside us all, against his sister’s wishes. This is proof enough to me that he deserves to live, and perhaps a chance to pursue happiness.” Daenerys nodded. Brienne stepped back. Jaime could see the tension clenched in her shoulders and wished he could shuck off her armor here and now and rub it away. Next, Tyrion stepped forward.

  
“Do you wish to speak on Ser Jaime’s behalf?” Jon asked Tyrion.

  
“I do,” replied Tyrion. “I also encouraged my brother to return to King’s landing and slay my sister the Queen. She accused me of a crime I did not commit, and conspired to kill me. I knew that the war could not be won until her death, and I knew that Jaime was, in a sense, the best suited for the task, since he is one of the few who could slip past the guards. I would vouch for his honor by saying this. When I was born, he could have hated me, as Cersei did, could have resented me, for my mothers death. And yet he does not. When I was trapped in the dungeons at Cersei’s mercy, he freed me, and allowed me to find you, My Queen. He had orders from Cersei to kill me many times over, and still he did not, even though doubtlessly, even with one hand, he could. Beyond that, he has sacrificed much of himself for your cause, almost dying from the wound my sister gave him. He may be guilty of the crime he stands trial for, but he deserves no harsh sentence.” Silence fell. The echo of Tyrion’s words seemed to bounce around in Jaime’s head. After a moment Jon spoke again.

 

"Sam, would you agree with Ser Jaime on the fact that Cersei Lannister was not with child at the time of her death?" Sam rose

 

"Yes," replied Sam, "I watched the autopsy of her body myself before she was committed to the crypt, and fully agree with the fact that she was not with child." Another silence fell. Tension twisted through Jaime's gut, but with just a little relief at Sam's words. For a second Jon and Dany could be seen whispering to each other. Then at last, Jon said, in a ringing voice,

  
“We hear your confession and offer this verdict to you. You are banished from King’s landing. You may do as you wish, and keep your house name, but other than your knighthood, and whatever titles you may earn of your own volition in the future, you are stripped of all duty and ownership. Your punishment beyond this is up to no one but yourself.” Jaime met Jon’s eyes, and then bowed his head solemnly.

  
“As you wish,” Jaime said, and left the courtroom. As soon as the doors shut behind him, Jaime breathed a sigh of relief, and tears began to run from his eyes. Brienne swept him into her arms.

  
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” she said, her voice shaking with her own emotion. When they finally let go of each other Jaime laughed.

 

“It seems I must leave. But I would not do so without you Brienne. Take me where you wish to go and I will follow you until my legs grow weary.” Brienne smiled, then said

  
“Then let us return to Winterfell, and maybe on the road we could find a path into our future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry y'all! There's more to come. You can better believe They're heading back to Winterfell to find Tyrion's gift ;) ;)


	6. Bonded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know it's been several months, so bless you if you stuck with this fic. I Finally finished it. I will probably come back and edit a little in the future but um here we go down the waterslide I guess so hold on tight! no editors we die like men. It's the wedding chapter, so get your mf tissues ready bitches, also, Jaime finally, finally gets pegged.

Early spring light filtered through the bright red leaves of the Godswood tree. The air was still a bit too chilled for Ser Jaime, who stood beneath it clad in a light gray cloak, an intricately sewn double breasted gold jacket, and soft light blue breeches. His hair rustled in the warming wind that always seemed to move through the clearing now. He breathed in, wanting to remember every moment of this day forever. There was no real audience. The only other people present for now were Podrick, and Sansa, along with a single musician. Sansa placed a hand on Jaime’s left shoulder. 

 

“Are you ready?” She asked him. 

 

“I have been since the day she took me captive.” Jaime replied. Sansa nodded to the musician. He nodded in return and began to play a slow, romantic ballad. From the trees Brienne emerged. Her short blonde hair was braided carefully and pinned into a crown around her head, where several little gold flowers seemed to be blooming from her. She wore a long sweeping dress of the same blue color of Jaime’s pants. It draped across her form beautifully, and it was a thinner fabric, for it seemed to movie with her as glided barefoot, step by step, towards him, led by Tyrion. She wore no cloak, and her shoulders lay bare and uncovered even by sleeves, but on the right breast of her dress, her sigil had been carefully embroidered. In truth, though, her face, her eyes, were all Jaime could see. He almost did not want to blink, afraid that such joy was to much to ask, unattainable, even for a moment. When finally they reached him, Tyrion stepped aside and Brienne gently took Jaime’s hand and squeezed it before letting go. Sansa looked deep into Brienne’s eyes, and then looked again at Jaime.

 

“You may cloak the bride,” she said to him. Jaime swept the gray cloak bearing the bright gold Lannister sigil from his shoulders and swung it smoothly on to Brienne’s shoulders (he would never admit it to anyone, but he had been practicing doing this one handed on a dress form lent to him from the seamstress). Brienne smiled, her eyes twinkling. Sansa began to speak again, wrapping a silk ribbon around their joined hands as she did so.

 

“Do you, Brienne of Tarth, pledge to uphold and protect this man’s honor, and to love him as you see fit until death do you part?”

 

“ I do” Brienne’s eyes never left Jaime’s.

 

“And do you, Jaime Lannister pledge to uphold this woman’s honor, and love her as you see fit, until death do you part?"

 

“I do” replied Jaime. Sansa tied a knot in the ribbon, binding their hands together, and said

 

“Then I now declare you bonded for life.” At last, again, Jaime and Brienne’s lips met. It was no chaste kiss either, but one full of fire, blue like the flames that flickered sometimes in the heart of the forge. When at last they pulled apart, Tyrion could be seen to roll his eyes. 

 

“Now, for the gods sake, let us go and feast,” Tyrion said, a jovial laugh moving through his voice as he said it. The walk back to the castle was silent, and the two of them decided to leave the ribbon tied, for they refused to let their hands go anyways. Spring was slower to come to Winterfell than it had been to Kings landing but at last a few buds had appeared, and the soft flower petals rustled under their feet on occasion. Where once was ash sprung green, little by little. And as they finally entered the great hall a great cheer arose, and together they thrust their bound hands into the air

 

✶✶✶

 

Jaime was careful not to over drink. Tonight, after all, he needed no drink to feel happy. He had his wife by his side, her hand firmly on his upper thigh under the table, good food to eat, and freedom. Freedom from Cersei, freedom from the expectations of his father, freedom from the Kingsgaurd, freedom from everything he did not willingly choose. The night was his. The night was theirs. The feast was raucous, loud, enthralling, so much so that even Sansa could not help but lose some of her queenly demeanor. When at last Tyrion took her hand up and stood on the table, he jumped, jarring the hard wood, almost cracking it, and grabbed the crowd’s attention. 

 

“To Bed with them!” Tyrion yelled. Jaime arose quickly, wanting to protect Brienne, but before he could speak, he found himself in her arms, a wicked grin upon her face. The crowd roared. Jaime laughed, taking a flower from her falling braid and sticking it in his teeth. She carried him from the hall effortlessly. She set him down at the bottom of the stairs, and almost before his feet hit the ground Jaime pressed her against the wall. Their lips, their bodies crashed together at what felt like the speed of sound. Everything faded away, and before Jaime could think his body had taken over. His hand rummaged in her skirts, tickling her legs as he kissed her neck, and _oh_ how good it felt to grind the cock straining in his pants against that soft fabric. Brienne was laughing squirming, and Jaime nipped her neck with a growl before she managed to push him far enough away to run up the stair, almost tripping on her dress. Jaime followed, already picking at the lacings on his shirt. The door was open when he reached their  chambers. Brienne stood still, looking at a carefully wrapped package on their fur covered bed. 

 

“What’s this?” she turned to Jaime and asked. 

 

“Don’t know,” Jaime said in surprise. Brienne reached for it and pulled the string, and opened the wooden box to reveal something Jaime could not quite see. Brienne’s brows knit together. Jaime strode over, reached into the box, and laughed. 

 

“Tyrion you cheeky bastard,” he mumbled to himself, and then to Brienne, “It’s Tyrion’s wedding gift. Look at the card" A small card lay inside the box. All it said was 

 

_Have fun with my little (or not so little) dornish gift._

 

_Love,_

 

_-Tyrion_

 

“What is it?” Brienne looked at Jaime and asked, as Jaime held it up. Jaime grinned. 

 

“Something new to play with,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. He set the leather harness attached the beautifully carved wooden rendition of a manhood on to the bed. 

“Oh,” Brienne said, her voice lowering, and a hint of lust creeping into her voice. Jaime came up behind her and undid the simple lacings of her dress, loosening them with his left hand as much he could. She pulled it off and turned to him, pulling his shirt over his head. Jaime traced the curve of her hip, and kissed her lips softly. 

 

“Lay down. I want to see what it looks like on you,” he whispered to her. She did as he asked. For a moment she held the harness in her hands, studying it for a second before slipping her legs into the right places. Jaime watched with fascination. He removed his breeches and lowered himself onto the bed, until his knee pressed into the strap that covered Brienne’s already wet center. He kissed her again, their lips meeting in desperation. The wooden protrusion lay hard and sensual against Jaime’s lower thigh, braced between them. 

 

“We match,” he said to her. She laughed. 

 

“It feels a bit loose. Do you know how to tighten it?” Brienne asked him. 

 

“I can figure it out,” Jaime said, his voice low and melodious. He saw the small metal pieces at the side and figured out what should be done. But how to with only one hand? He thought. He grinned. He knew how. Slowly he left kisses all along her body, remembering the first time, remembering the noises then, the fear then, and how she now ran her fingers through his soft hair, confident, loved, comfortable. He licked into the groove of muscle at her hipbode, and then took the end of the leather strap in his teeth, to pull it tight and snug on her, beautiful, pale, freckled body. 

 

“Better?” he asked her suavely as he made his way slowly back to her face. 

 

“Decidedly,” Brienne said. For the second time that night, Jaime felt himself being swept into her arms, but this time he was swiftly rolled, and came to, she on top of him, the wooden cock now grazing lazily on his own flesh and blood one. He bit his lip, looking into his lady’s eyes. 

 

“It seems there’s to be a joust tonight Ser,” he said, grinding against her, smirking

 

“Oh, how lovely,” Brienne said, taking both the wooden cock and Jaime’s in her large, strong, hands, and stroking them. Jaime moaned. “I’ve never jousted before,” she mused, (although of course she had), “You must tell me what to do with my lance Ser, for it seems I’ve forgotten where to put it.” She leaned down, and nipped at Jaime’s earlobe and stroked him long and hard. He thrust up against her hand, feeling the glorious sensation of the wood grain against his hardness. 

 

“Fuck-” he said. She kissed his neck, ran her thumb around the head of his cock, just like she knew he loved. 

 

“I want you inside me” Jaime gasped out, his voice deep, and wanting.

 

“Well then I must fulfill my knightly duties,” Brienne said. She reached for the bedside table where a jar of oil lay conveniently available. Jaime lay breathing hard as he watched her slowly dip two fingers into the slick substance. His breath caught. She traced the muscled line of his stomach slowly, then caressed the junction of his  powerful thighs, before lifting his legs and seating herself carefully between them. She toyed with him, tracing her finger around the sensitive band of muscle that was his hole, watching his face as she always did while he absorbed the sensation. The leather of the harness pressed persistently at the wetness of her core, and as she pushed her first finger into him, watching him enjoy it, she ground onto it, stroking both her and Jaime’s cocks in her hand again. Another load moan escaped from Jaime. She brushed his prostate and felt him thrust in ecstasy. 

 

“Don’t-” Brienne stopped momentarily, waiting to hear Jaime’s wishes “Don’t go too quickly,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering, “I want to savor this. Savor you.” Brienne did as he asked, moving her finger slowly within him before withdrawing and adding another, giving him intentional guided motion, waiting for him to set the pace of thrusts before she added a third. At last Jaime’s back arched off the bed as he let out another ragged gasp, and he leaned up, looking at her. 

 

“Fuck me,” he said, taking her face in his hand. She raised her eyebrows “Do it.” 

 

“As you wish,” Brienne said. She reached for the jar again, and slicked the wood cock in oil. She held Jaime carefully as she lined them up carefully, and when finally the blunt tip of the thing pushed past whatever resistance Jaime’s body had, she let out her own moan. To see him so debauched, so utterly hers, at her mercy, was all she could ever have wished for. Inch by inch he sunk on to her, and just as in the godswood before, their eyes never left one another. When at last Jaime was fully seated, his legs wrapped around her, Brienne began to move, cautiously at first, until Jaime began to speed their rhythm. She stroked his swollen cock lazily, delighted by the way the leather rubbed against her clit deliciously with each thrust. Jaime reached for her, massaging one of her small breasts delicately. She thrust harder into him, and laughed as he gasped. 

 

“Just there, harder” he said. “Do that again,” Brienne complied, angling him just so. They built speed easily, until their bodies slapped together, and Brienne braced one hand against the headboard. 

 

“You can let go whenever you like Jaime,” she said lovingly to him as she drew out of him almost fully, and then slammed back in. She took the hand from the headboard and traced a finger at the along his shaft. With one good thrust, and a burst of sound, Jaime shuddered and spilled his seed between them. For a moment they laid there, she still inside him, enjoying the sensation, before she pulled away.

 

They rested, awhile, she holding him. She sat cross legged, her back against the headboard, his head in her lap. She stroked his soft, thick hair.

 

“Why you ever wanted to marry a woman like me is beyond me Jaime Lannister, but I am glad for it.”

 

“Who would not want to marry someone as wonderful as you is a more feasible question truly,” Jaime replied. She kissed him softly, and deeply. “Now let me take care of you for once,” he said, sitting up. 

 

Brienne scooted downwards on the bed, and closed her eyes. He had let her take control, and now she was letting him do the same. She felt him part her legs, and place a soft kiss on her inner thigh. His breath was cool against her center. His fingers parted her delicately, and as his tongue laved against her she could almost see stars. Expertly, he suckled at her clit, licking at the sensitive bud until a wave of sensation began to build through Brienne. When the wave broke she buzzed but could not feel his fingers, only his tongue, still working her. She could hear him rummaging in the sheets for something. And then she felt it. He sank the wooden member into her slowly, still circling her clit with his tongue. It felt like heaven, to be so full, stretched, and to have his tongue still on her like this. He moved  it in and out of her, slowly at first and then more quickly, and another, higher wave built within Brienne. One that made her toes curl, her whole body sing. So much so that the sounds she made almost did not seem to register as her own. And then she was pulsing, and his lips were on hers, and the wooden cock was replaced by a real one. There was no stopping, no real separation between them as they clung together, and together they both came, their names on one another’s lips. And truly, from that day on, they were forever bonded

 

-Fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me through this mess. I love you all.  
> -A. D. Warrick


End file.
